Perks of the unofficial teacher
by OtterAndTerrier
Summary: Ron takes on the seemingly impossible task of teaching Hermione some Quidditch. Set on the summer after the war, minor Harry/Ginny included.


This is my very belated prize for **HermioneJeanWeasley**, whose header won first place at the "Capture the moment" contest for my group, **Ron-x-Hermione** (at Deviantart). Her request was that I wrote about Ron teaching Hermione how to play Quidditch. Ron + Quidditch + Hermione = fun, haha.  
>I picked the open idea I introduced in "What it takes to get a date" and... basically, I had a blast writing this!<p>

Many thanks to **exartemarte** for revising this!

Hope you'll like it :D

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><p><strong>Perks of the unofficial teacher<strong>

Ginny's concerned expression wasn't enough to hide the obvious satisfaction she felt at having won.

'Well, if you're sure you don't have anything broken, we'd better get going. Maybe you can come meet us later?'

'Sure,' said Ron, frowning in disapproval, as Harry and Ginny set off to Ottery St. Catchpole for ice-creams. He sighed and sat on the ground next to Hermione, examining her leg for the tenth time.

'You really don't know anyhing about Quidditch, do you?' he said softly.

'I know a lot about Quidditch, in fact,' Hermione replied, rubbing her leg and panting heavily.

'About _playing_ Quidditch, I meant. Nor even about flying...'

'Ron, please. You don't need to rub it in that I'm not good at physical activity.'

'I'm not! I don't care, Hermione... Honestly, you're way better than me or anyone else at most things, so...'

He smiled at her.

'You think I'm angry because we didn't win?'

'Well, you did look quite angry when Ginny announced our defeat,' she said doubtfully.

'That's only because she thinks she's too good for us, the puffed-up little madam.'

'I don't know why you insist on me playing with you. Pigwidgeon would do better.'

'But winning's not the point, nor even playing Quidditch... this could barely be called proper Quidditch, after all,' Ron explained, throwing an apple into the air and catching it. 'We play because it's fun and we all can do it... and it's supposedly risk-free.'

Hermione groaned. 'I'm sorry. I didn't mean to fall; I thought I had the broom under control!'

'I don't understand why someone in their right mind would attempt a move like that, on a broom like this and with as little practice as you've had!' He finally succumbed to laughter, making Hermione smile in spite of herself.

'If I remember rightly, though, you promised you would try to teach me how to play Quidditch some time ago, didn't you?'

'You're right. I did promise that.'

Ron pushed himself up and offered Hermione a hand. 'Come on. If you feel better, you should start your first lesson.'

'What? You must be joking!'

'Nope. Don't you want to learn how to play Quidditch?'

'Not really; I—'

'You won't learn stuff like this from books.' Ron held out his hand again until, somewhat reluctantly, Hermione took it.

'You're definitely in for a broken ankle,' she said, although smiling.

'Just get on your broom, will you?

All right, first of all: you need to be more confident in the air—'

'Have you ever realised that what you play here is like an ancient form of Quidditch, without the Snitch and trying to knock each other off the brooms instead of having Bludgers?' Hermione asked, looking at the trees they used as goals. Ron gaped at her for a moment, exasperated.

'Hermione, rule number one: no theory!'

'Well, that's a contradiction. When you say "rule", it involves theory in itself. Besides, we do need to observe the actual rules of the game, which means theory is clearly needed.'

'But you don't need to _study_ the rules to learn them!'

'There's no logic in that, Ron.'

Ron sighed.

'Look, just forget about anything other than the rules of Quidditch and what I tell you. No facts, no statistics, no history—'

'All right, I get your point!'

'This is going to be a real challenge, isn't it?'

'I thought that was what you wanted,' said Hermione, smirking.

'Hm. And I thought you always respected your teachers,' said Ron. Hermione laughed roundly as he raised his eyebrows in mock outrage. 'Let's go back to the lesson, shall we?'

'Absolutely, _professor_.'

'As I was saying, you don't have to fear the broom. If you do, you'll fall. When you're flying fast, you can't sit up straight and enjoy the view; you have to lean your body almost flat against the broom and focus on your direction.' Ron demonstrated, gesturing Hermione at to imitate him.

'Now let's race!' he shouted, leaving her standing as he took off and flew to the other end of the orchard.

'Wait!' Hermione shrieked, but she caught up with him several seconds later.

'Not fast enough, let's do it again,' Ron said, patting her gently on the back before flying away for a second time.

It was only after Hermione was finally able to keep up with him that Ron stopped racing around the secluded orchard.

'Now,' he said, as Hermione tried to catch her breath, 'I'm going to carry an apple and you're going to take it from me, no matter what.'

'No—no matter what?' Hermione said, still panting but looking dubious.

'Exactly. Be aggressive.'

'But I—'

Ron interrupted her, grinning. 'Come on, you can be very aggressive when you want to.' He yanked an apple off the nearest tree and resumed the racing, much to Hermione displeasure.

Fifteen minutes later, Hermione managed to prise the apple out of Ron's hands.

'That's nail abuse!' he complained in pain, grimacing and rubbing his hands.

'I thought I was supposed to be aggressive,' said Hermione, taking a bite of the apple.

'Not by pinching me! That's actually a foul, you know.'

'I'm sorry.' She flew closer and took his hands in hers, rubbing them gently. 'I think we should call it a day.'

Chuckling, Ron took the half-eaten apple that she was holding and finished it in two bites.

'Not just yet. Though we don't play with Snitches here, you ought to know a bit about being a seeker.'

Leaving her gaping in outrage, Ron flew off again as fast as his Cleansweep would allow him.

'So, if you want to end the lesson and claim your reward, you'll have to catch me first!' he called from a distance.

Muttering to herself, Hermione shot herself after him, until—

'Okay, that must have been at least thirty fouls.'

'Really? Thirty?' Panting, Hermione held herself inches away from Ron with her knees and hands on both sides of him, on the ground.

'Let me see... first you threw apples at me, _using your wand_, then tried to use Impedimenta but missed—which I admit I was amazed to see—then you caught the tail of my broomstick,' said Ron, counting with his fingers. 'I couldn't say what brought us down here, though.'

'You should consider yourself lucky that you've got your limbs. And anyway, you never said the rules still applied.'

Ron looked at her, amused. Her face was bright and rosy pink. Her eyes were sparkling, and smiling in an even more meaningful way that her lips. His intention had never been to make an average Quidditch player of Hermione, but to have fun together, and he had succeeded.

'What are you thinking?' she asked softly.

'That you still haven't claimed your reward.'

She lowered herself until their lips almost brushed.

'I think it's your reward, too. For being a great teacher.'

'If you insist,' Ron said, and in the blink of an eye, he covered the few inches separating them and kissed her.

'That was quick,' said Hermione, sounding disappointed.

'That wasn't the reward; I've got a better idea.' Ron slid out from under Hermione and reached for his broomstick. 'If it started in the sky,' he explained, taking Hermione's hand and pulling her behind him onto the broom, 'it should end in the sky.'


End file.
